


Female Robbery

by richiegoranski



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: & transphobia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinda, Trans Jeremy Heere, Trans Rich Goranski, basically all the characters besides rich r only mentioned, its established theyre in a relationship but the fic is only abt rich, like yall this fic is a Lot pls be careful, spicy bis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 11:42:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14424678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richiegoranski/pseuds/richiegoranski
Summary: That TV show I saw as I fell asleepHad me on both my kneesPraying to whatever is in HeavenPlease send me a felonAnd don't let the police know





	Female Robbery

**Author's Note:**

> name a more iconic duo than me & writing one shot fics based on songs
> 
> this fic is kiiiind of a continuation of Issues (one of my other fics) but u don't need to have read that to get this one

was there any escape? rich’s dad was getting angrier, his screams getting louder, his beatings getting worse. rich was supposed to listen. rich was supposed to be a _good little girl._ rich was tired of listening. rich was tired of being a good girl. he was tired of getting beaten when his lisp slipped or when he referred to himself as a boy or when he came home with jeremy heere _and his dad could handle him thinking he’s a boy but he can’t be a fag too he has to pick one_ or when he didn’t make dinner fast enough or when he

 

was there any escape? before, when he had someone helping him, it was a little easier. sure, his dad still hit him sometimes, but it was nothing like this. there were ways to avoid him. he forgot all of them. he didn’t know how to talk without stuttering and lisping and stuttering got him hit and lisping got him punched and he wasn’t strong anymore he wasn’t strong enough to fight back.

 

sometimes his dad wasn’t angry. sometimes rich and his dad sat on the couch in silence, and maybe his dad sat a little too close and maybe his dad’s hand burned a hole in his inner thigh but at least he wasn’t angry, and they watched contestants scramble to make a dish that will impress the judges or boys in the 80s riding their bikes or _a girl being dragged away in the middle of the night._

 

sometimes his dad was so angry that rich thought, _this is it. this time he’ll really kill me._ his sobs were filled with both pain and anger as his trembling knees hit the floor and he begged whoever the hell is in heaven for an escape, _**please** give me an escape._ it occurred to him a thought that was terrifying yet exhilarating—that he would never fight back. someone could drag him out of his house kicking and screaming, a gun held to his head, but that would be no fun and anywhere would be better than that fucking house with his awful dad and if someone came maybe he’d let them take him, maybe he wanted someone to take him.

 

rich was terrified. his brother wouldn’t understand, his brother was the good kid, his brother was off at his perfect ivy league college getting perfect grades being the perfect son rich would never be because he’d never be a son at all in his dad’s eyes. his brother wouldn’t understand. his friends wouldn’t understand. jeremy wouldn’t understand. no one would understand except the man who stood too close to him in the aisle of the grocery store and stood too close to him in line and stood too close to him all the way home, the man who didn’t exist but if rich prayed hard enough maybe he would be real and maybe he would save rich.

 

maybe jeremy _would_ understand. he told rich once, whispered, eyes cast downward, how his mom used to hit him, how she hated that he was trans. and jeremy knew what it was like to be afraid every day. thanks to rich. just add that to the list of reasons he hated himself. but jeremy couldn’t understand this, could he? this was just too fucked up. this was something that ruined people’s lives, and he was on his knees every night praying for it.

 

lying in bed, his eyes shut, images ran through his head of a man covering his eyes a man gagging him a man throwing him in his trunk a man tying him up but he’d never lay a hand on rich because rich would be good rich would listen rich would never fight back no one would hear his screams because he wouldn’t scream and maybe one day he’d die there but _anywhere is better than here._


End file.
